


Gifted

by Selienne



Category: Christian Bible, Original Work
Genre: Angels, Angst, Character Development, Demons, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fallen Angels, Falling In Love, God is an asshole (Kinda), I'll probably add more tags later, I'm Sorry, I've messed up some biblical myths, Inspired by Music, Lucifer hates humans, Lucifer learns emotions, M/M, Original Character(s), Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 09:50:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13233225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selienne/pseuds/Selienne
Summary: Lucifer, the Devil, the leader of Hell knows and accepts only one feeling out of them all: hate. He hates his Father who casted him out of Heaven and he hates humans: the reason why God abandoned him in the first place. But when he becomes interested with someone hurt and broken even more than him, he learns a handful of things he'd never consider worthy his time before the strange encounter. He learns how to smile, he learns how to cry.He learns how to love.





	Gifted

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story inspired by music. Each chapter begins with a fragment of a song that describes its content in a better or worse way. For the best experience, I recommend listening to the songs I chose as I was writing to their lyrics.
> 
> Chapter 1. - Daughter - Youth

**_“And if you're still bleeding_ **

**_You're the lucky ones_ **

**_'Cause most of our feelings_ **

**_They are dead and they are gone”_ **

* * *

_At first, he was all alone, surrounded by the darkness. There was nothing he could see, nothing he could hear, with which he was fine after a minute or so. What was scaring him was the fact that he couldn’t even FEEL anything. It was truly terrifying, lying (or standing? He had no idea) in the dark, not sure what he was supposed to do, only able to wait in a complete silence. Alone. Left behind. Abandoned by everyone and everything._

_‘Everyone..? Who’s everyone..?’_

_He couldn’t remember a thing, his mind was completely blank. Hell, he even had problems with focusing his thoughts at something; anything. It’s started to be a little frustrating, not able to do a damn thing, stuck in this empty void without something that he could use to tie himself to. He felt miserable and it pissed him off._

_And the anger was the next thing he felt, after fear and misery. But it was the first thing that unlocked something in him. He remembered that he went through a similar feeling in the past. He couldn’t recall the details but he was sure it was because of a person. Someone he knew but not that well, someone he couldn’t stand at all._

_Someone that was completely out of his reach._

_He’s started to feel awfully tired all of a sudden as if his body had just been crashed by the truck and now he was recovering from it. The pain was horrible; it was chewing on his nerves in a very slowly manner, spitting the pieces and putting them back together but at the same time, which was actually surprising, he felt as if wrapped in a warm, a little scratchy maybe but still cozy blanket. He was hurting and getting numb from the pain; getting high and dying from the hunger for more again and again. He fell into a weird cycle that he was getting tired of already, even if it’s just started._

_And then, he (at least kind of) woke up._

_He couldn’t tell at the beginning ‘cause nothing has actually changed. He still couldn’t see a thing, even if he could feel his eyelids, heavy and unwilling to open, something clearly stopping them from doing that. He was lying on his back, of that he was sure, but he didn’t know where or why all of it was happening. Well, even then he wasn’t able to recall any of his memories apart from the feeling of his past anger and the mysterious person he couldn’t remember the name of. The numbness has faded but there was the same darkness surrounding him, that hasn’t changed at all._

_It became clear to him that he had to wake up the moment he heard voices somewhere above._

_There were two of them, both slightly muffled and quiet but still different enough that he was able to distinguish them. The first one to be heard was high-pitched, silvery and softly spoken, clearly a female voice and he decided he liked it but it sounded a little brittle right then and that saddened him almost immediately. ‘A person with such sweet voice shouldn’t have any reason to cry, not even in happiness.’ He couldn’t understand why he felt the need to cheer someone he didn’t even know, only heard their voice, but he wasn’t one to be bothered by it._

_The second voice was a complete opposite from the first one. It was male, for starters, husky and very, very low; he would’ve gotten the goosebumps if the voice had been louder, he was sure of it. But what made him worry a little was the fact that this voice, too, was very thick with emotions, as if its owner tried not to cry over something._

_“He’s not here anymore”, said the female. ‘Probably a girl’, he thought, the voice was too childish and innocent to belong to a grown woman. “He’s dead, you hear me? It’s just a lifeless body now.”_

_He furrowed his brows, if only mentally. It was clear that they were talking about someone who died and who was dear to the girl. ‘So that’s why she’s crying, I guess’, he managed to understand. The longer he heard the voices, the harder it was to think properly, though. As if a fog was slowly covering his mostly empty mind._

_“No”, was the only response that the man gave her. He felt almost heartbroken hearing it. The man was so sure about it, yet so clearly and utterly destroyed by the event they were both facing. He felt sorry for them, for their loss of a loved one. Something touched his left hand, someone held it in their own. He wasn’t able to move a finger though, and the feeling was very dim too so he didn’t bother to spare it a thought, just thinking about the tragedy he was a witness of tiring him enough._

_“He’s not gonna come back, not this time”, she cried, the man ignoring her completely. But he could be wrong and there could’ve been an answer; everything was getting more quiet and muted, he couldn’t really tell if there was none or if he simply didn’t hear it._

_He felt something wet on his face and the feeling was enough to distract him from the voices. ‘Tears, perhaps?’ Again, the feeling was so dim and light he had to really focus to even register it. But that wasn’t all. The tears (at least he thought of them as tears, that would’ve made sense in those circumstances) were soon followed by a short and soft touch to his forehead. The fog covering his mind stepped back, if only for a moment, conquered by the wild trail of thoughts that almost immediately took its place._

_‘A soft and a little wet touch to the forehead. A touch of someone’s lips. A kiss. A kiss followed by tears. A goodbye kiss. A goodbye kiss to someone who’s died, given by their loved one.’_

_But if it was a kiss, and he was the one to receive it.. then it could mean that.. It could mean that he was the one they were talking about. It could mean he was the one who’s not gonna come back._

**_‘It means that I’m the one who’s dead.’_ **

_But his mind was getting foggier and he found out he wasn’t able to think properly nor he could hear the voices anymore. The silence has scared him terribly but at the same time, he couldn’t care less._

_As it was getting fainter and fainter; dimmer and dimmer; weaker and weaker with every second until there was nothing but him and him only. The everlasting darkness surrounding him and the body he could no longer feel._

_Because, which he wasn’t sure of but it was true anyway, he was really dead; and he was really gone. And the moment his mind drifted back into sleep, it all became nothing but a dream. A beautiful dream, he hoped._

* * *

“At the beginning of times”, he read in a book, “there had been nothing at all. And from that nothingness, a light had been the first thing to come out. The light, of course, had been followed by a shadow ‘cause everything had always been about the contraries.

But the Light and the Shadow hadn’t been just mere concepts or simple forces, they’d been persons; powerful entities that had come to create the world. The Light had called themselves “God” and the Shadow had been given a name “Death”, none of those names having the meaning they’ll have had by the rise of humanity. Men created in the image of God himself, and women created in the image of Death” but the last one was something he could only suspect, having God never confirm nor deny it.

“But only one of them had had the ambitions to be a creator; the other had simply enjoyed watching their companion, not feeling creative enough to make something themselves; content with the progress their partner had had been showing.

And thus the bond amongst the two entities had been created, their only mutual but certainly the best creation in history. They’d been spending all of their time together, conversing about God’s ideas or simply enjoying the other’s presence.” _That’s why,_ he thought, _her image could’ve slipped in front of his eyes when he’d been creating humanity._

“But it hadn’t taken long for them to depart. With God’s attempts to create life, they’d discovered the true nature of Death – that she would kill everything she touches. And then everything between them had ended. God couldn’t bear the sight of his creations being destroyed so he’d come to despise Death and had banished her from his presence.

Thus, the first land of the world had been created – the Heaven, God’s sanctuary, where Death had never been allowed to go. And he’d locked himself there, focused on his attempts to create something marvelous, leaving Death on her own, abandoned amongst the nothingness they’d been sharing together barely moments earlier.

And as she’d started to feel alone, having lost all hope on regaining her dear friend, she’d tried something she’d never thought about before. Not wanting to be lonely, she’d poured all her solitary and misery into a shape on which she’d started then working just like she’d seen God do many times already.

And she’d succeeded in doing that, as she’d come to create a life, something she should have never been able to do. She’d come to love her creation almost instantly because she’d been aware that she would never be able to create anything again. And because her creation had been so dear to her, she’d decided to give it away to her lost friend as a peace offering, regaining the hope on winning him back.

God had taken the gift, having done that only just so he could please Death, as he’d felt that the gift itself had offended him in every way possible. He’d been convinced that he was the only one able to create life so the fact that Death had succeeded in doing so had outraged him. But he’d known better than to anger Death, he hadn’t wanted to lose all the progress he’d made, as he’d been sure she’d kill his every creation if he were to reject hers.

So, knowing that he’d never accept the gift but not wanting to anger his former friend, he’d rejected  Death’s child and had cursed them, all of that behind her back.” ‘ _And from that moment, every time they would die, they’d just simply come back as a different person, not knowing why they died and who they were before’,_ he recalled. It was really cruel, even he had to admit it. _“_ That way, God had assured himself that Death would never learn about any of her child’s demises through their deaths or words.

And he had named the child gifted to him ‘Sammael’, which meant ‘The Poison of God’, as it was the only thing the child would ever receive from the entity throughout their whole life.”

**_Or so they say._ **

Lucifer closed the book with a sigh, putting it on his desk ‘cause the shelf the book was normally in was too far from his reach and he didn’t particularly want to get up from his comfortable position in the chair behind the desk. He wasn’t really sure why the book was there in the first place but having nothing else to read, he could as well have some of that bullshit. He wasn’t a big fan of the book, in fact, he hated it, as it was mostly about his Father and the legends he’d heard multiple times when he was an archangel, and those topics were still pissing him off after all those years.

He sighed again, furrowing his brows a little and changing his position so it could be even more comfy. He put his legs on the desk and closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift off in an attempt to get some sleep. The paperwork was surely killing him recently and he needed some rest.

But instead of some relaxing images, he started thinking about Sammael and the stupid legend he’d just read. He didn’t know Death’s son really well but he knew the story, as his Father had always loved to boast about the time he’d outsmarted Death herself.

What he did know about Sammael was that the guy, banished from God’s presence and the main lands of their world, was forced to stay in Hell, surrounded by fallen angels and demons of all sorts. It wasn’t a nice company and Lucifer was well aware of that, as their leader; just as he was aware of the fact that his people didn’t like Sammael as much as Sammael didn’t like them.

 _The guy’s an outcast even in Hell_ , thought the Devil and it made him laugh a little. He couldn’t be mad at his subjects, though. Sammael was a selfish asshole that’s been nothing but a nuisance from the moment he’d showed his annoying ass in front of Hell’s gates, asking for a sanctuary.

Yep, Sammael was definitely annoying, acting as if he was better than them but Lucifer knew better than to refuse him then. Even if he was confident in his power, he didn’t know a jack shit about Sammael’s and he didn’t even want to learn about it; not because of fear or something but because it was a pain in the ass and he had to be extremely interested to even consider researching about that. The fact that the demons were afraid of Sammael and stayed out of his way was good enough for Lucifer anyway.

He looked around his office relaxing a little. The room was really big and spacious, he didn’t like small and claustrophobic spaces as he always felt trapped in them, not able to fully stretch out his wings. Even if he’d lost them eons prior, the feeling was still vivid in his mind. He didn’t pay attention to the color of the walls or the carpet covering the floor but he did noticed how big and powerful was the double door made of brass that protected his privacy from the demons and their whining always waiting for him outside. He definitely liked his door.

In the room itself there weren’t that many things; Lucifer wasn’t a type of collector. He had a simple wooden desk with two chairs, a sofa and a big shelf with some books; none of them written by a human scum. If he were to name the most luxurious thing in his office, he’d go with his chair. It was big, really comfortable and made out of leather, he thought. He wasn’t sure of the last one, actually. Not that he was an ignorant, of course, he just didn’t care about anything related to the human world.

Because Lucifer hated humans even more than he hated his Father. After all, they were the reason he’d been banished and deprived of his wings. He’d been forced to abandon his home, to leave his brothers and sisters just because he hadn’t wanted to bow to those deformed creatures. _And to think that he said I was his favorite son_ , he winced, feeling the anger growing, bubbling up inside him.

The fallen angel decided to leave the walls of his office and take a quick walk as he’d rather take it out on some demon than demolish the room he was in. He got up from his chair and walked to the door; opened it slightly, exited the room and closed the door behind him. He didn’t want anyone to enter his private space and he wasn’t sure if there weren’t some stupid individuals who’d think that’s a good idea.

As soon as he went outside he looked around, taking in the sight before him. There weren’t that many demons outside, he’d been expecting more and he was glad he was wrong. He wasn’t in mood to put up with their complains.

Demons weren’t that bad, actually. Yes, they were often annoying with their whining and whimpering whenever they wanted something from Lucifer or they were simply bored, having stayed in Hell for too long. (Sending the particular whining demon back to Earth with some ridiculous to achieve goal was always a good solution to deal with it, though.) But there were times when the demons were extremely useful such as when he wanted them to smuggle something for him from the above (it didn’t happen often) and didn’t want to do it himself. So yeah, sometimes, aware of that aspects, he would listen to them and promise to do something just to shut them up but he was angry and annoyed and didn’t actually give a shit.

He tensed a little, ready for the worst when he crossed paths with one of his subjects but the creature simply bowed to him and continued its journey wherever. Lucifer winced, immediately trying to identify that specific demon but to no avail – he always viewed them as spirits that they were – instead of pure and innocent (like humans’ souls) they were twisted and broken. He knew probably all of his demons and fallen siblings were using forms similar to those of humans but he loathed that and wasn’t about to accept it. But when almost every spirit looked the same to him, it was extremely difficult to tell apart one from another. It angered him even more.

The walk doing him no good, he stopped near the Blood River that was flowing through the middle of Hell, dividing it into two parts; the one to the north covered in ice, home to those of the lighter faults; and the one to the south conquered by fire, a prison to the souls that died in mortal sin. He chose the second part as his dominium because he was enjoying the screaming of the damned.

Lucifer walked close to the river’s bank, enjoying the sounds made by the tortured souls until he bumped into someone sitting at the ground who was blocking his way. He growled, the sound enough to scare most of the demons away but the sudden disturbance didn’t even move. Only then Lucifer decided to take a look at them, curious as to why they didn’t even look at him.

He wasn’t pleased with the result. Yes, he wasn’t able to distinguish one demon from another but he could tell the difference between a demon and one of his siblings; fallen angels weren’t just spirits, they were celestial beings after all (even if deprived of their wings and their grace, they’re still angels just like he was one). And he knew names of every angel that followed him to Hell, he owed them at least that much.

But it wasn’t a demon’s spirit that he saw. It wasn’t even one of his brothers or sister, no. In front of him, next to the Blood River, Lucifer saw a shadow, as thick and black as if it’s sucked that little light Hell had to offer. The shadow wasn’t moving at all nor making any response toward the Devil disturbing its peace so it was clearly sleeping.

 **Sammael** was clearly sleeping in Lucifer’s way, near the Blood River’s bank.

**Author's Note:**

> Yaaay, here we are. I've been thinking about this idea for a while now and, encouraged by my friends and some of the fellow authors, I decided to write it.  
> For now, I have only few chapters and a vague conception of what I want to do next, so it's gonna be a learning experience. I'm not that good at writing in English and I'm especially not good at writing long, complex stories. But I feel this one and I hope that I'm gonna at least finish it. I'll try to post one chapter per week but I won't promise you anything!  
> These two boys are my precious OCs that live within me for a couple of years now, and I think that "Gifted" is the best way to tell their story.  
> I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings by messing with your beliefs. T^T If you feel offended, tell me, please.  
> Every word of advice, pointing out my mistakes or even telling me if you enjoyed anything helps me a lot! <3
> 
> Also! Every little thing has its meaning. The lyrics of the songs aren't chosen randomly; I'm all about symbolism and I love foreshadowing things so feel free to speculate about the rest of the plot! =3=  
> I can tell you only one thing: the title holds the most meaning out of all things I intend to use.


End file.
